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Linkage (The Narrows of Time Series Book 1)

Page 35

by Jay J. Falconer


  “When we were hurled through the rift, we were sent to a parallel universe, to an alternate version of Earth. Given everything we now know, it’s the only conclusion that explains why some of your historical facts are different than ours. It’s clear we don’t share the same past, so by extension, we can’t be part of your same future.”

  Lucas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Inter-dimensional travel? Really? So basically you’re talking about the exact same theory I proposed in my thesis. The same theory that everyone blasted to hell across the Internet.”

  “Yes. That’s why you needed to run your paper by me first.”

  “How the hell was I supposed to know that, when you keep us in the dark—about everything?”

  “What paper?” Drew asked, looking at Kleezebee and then at Lucas.

  Lucas hesitated for a moment, then decided to come clean with his brother. “A couple of weeks ago, I emailed my equations for opening a rift in space to Astrophysics Today. I was hoping to get published and generate some cash for Mom’s medical bills. But it totally backfired. That asshole editor, Dr. Green, ripped me a new one on his blog. That’s the real reason Larson shut us down, isn’t it, Professor?”

  Kleezebee nodded. “Mostly.”

  Lucas thought about the facts, lining them up in his head. He locked eyes again with his brother. “So basically, if I hadn’t sent my paper to Green, Larson wouldn’t have shut us down, forcing us to run the experiment a second time. And we all know what happened after that. So it all boils down to this . . . If I hadn’t clicked that stupid send button, the end of the world never would’ve happened. A single email—that’s all it took. Seriously, it boggles the mind when you think about the chain reaction it caused.”

  “You couldn’t have known what would happen, Lucas. It’s not your fault,” Drew said in his sympathetic voice.

  “Yes, it is. All this death and destruction is on my hands. I killed all these people. No two ways about it.”

  Drew stared at Lucas, but didn’t say a thing.

  “What’s done is done. So let it go,” Kleezebee said. “History is what it is. You can’t change it. Like your brother said, you couldn’t have known. Besides, NASA is also at fault here. So am I. We’re all culpable in our own way. So let’s move on, shall we?”

  Lucas agreed and appreciated the support from the professor and his brother, though he was still upset—mostly with himself.

  Drew turned to Kleezebee. “How did you prove it, Professor? The alternate universe part.”

  “Matter in each universe vibrates with its own specific subatomic frequency, meaning your universe and ours vibrate differently. Eventually, we were able to use that fact to rule out time travel and determine what actually happened to us.”

  Neither Drew nor Lucas said anything.

  “Do you remember what I taught you in my Quantum Mechanics course? That the laws of physics can vary from one universe to the next?”

  Drew and Lucas both nodded.

  “The same is true for the flow of time. It can vary as well. In your universe, time flows at a rate slower than ours. When we crossed over, we entered your history and did so at a point that was four hundred years behind ours. That means we’re re-living your version of Earth’s history.”

  “I see. So it wasn’t time travel. It was a time differential, due to the fact that time advances faster in your home universe than ours,” Drew said in a matter-of-fact way. “Interesting. I never would’ve considered that.”

  “Wow, this story just keeps getting better and better,” Lucas replied with a full-on smirk.

  Kleezebee put his hands on Lucas’ shoulders, squeezed gently, and then said in a soft, gentle tone, “Look, Lucas. I know you’re upset, but you need to listen to me carefully. Right now it doesn’t matter where I’m from, or how I got here, or that you sent your thesis to Green. We can’t change the past. All you need to be concerned with is what do we do next to stop the Krellians before they destroy this planet and all of humanity.”

  Lucas nodded. He didn’t want to admit it, but Kleezebee was right. Billions of lives were at stake, including his mother’s, and they still had a job to do.

  “So, that’s how you knew what real estate to buy and when. You used your knowledge of Earth’s history for profit,” Drew said. “The parts of history that didn’t change from one universe to another.”

  “To some extent, yes. We also earned substantial royalties from several technology patents we own. We pooled our money and purchased old missile silos from the U.S. government to serve as our network of underground bases.”

  “How many do you have, Professor?”

  “Thirty-seven. All but two of them have working jump pads, which is how we move our staff and supplies around the world.”

  “Can you tell us who will win the next five Stanley Cups? I could place some bets and be a billionaire before I’m thirty,” Lucas replied sarcastically.

  Kleezebee quickly shook his head. “Sorry. There’s no guarantee history will unfold exactly the same on your version of Earth. The very nature of the multiverse stipulates that there must be differences, some subtle, some not. For example, in our universe, Arnold Schwarzenegger became governor of California, and Ronald Reagan became President. Also, our Michael Jackson never went through gender reassignment surgery to become Belle Mae Watson, the country music singer.”

  “What happened to the real Bruno?” Drew asked.

  Kleezebee choked up for a moment. “He died of prostate cancer in 2001. We used our BioTex to keep his memory and his spirit alive.”

  “Why is all this happening now?” Lucas asked. “It can’t be simply because of me, right?”

  “Two reasons. First, the U.S. Navy was finally able to recover the E-121 modules for us from our ship. We had to wait for Earth’s technology to catch up before our ship’s power core could be salvaged from the deep-sea trench. Once they had it, our replicas inside the Navy had it redirected into our hands.”

  “And the second reason?”

  “You brought the Krellians here by changing the specs on your E-121 experiment.”

  “The Krellians are behind the energy fields?”

  Kleezebee nodded. “We think so. When you changed the experiment, NASA’s energy spike sent the E-121 canister to our home universe, which the bugs must’ve intercepted and traced back to your dimension and time. We assume they’ve been looking for us ever since we disappeared through the rift.”

  “Why would the bugs care where you went?”

  “They want our BioTex, assuming they were able to decipher the data they downloaded from Trinity’s data core. It would give them a huge tactical advantage in the war.”

  “Of course, that’s assuming the war’s still going on after all these years,” Drew added.

  “Trust me, it is. As long as there’s advanced technology to be had, they’ll never stop trying to acquire it.”

  “Unbelievable,” Lucas said, looking at the ground, shaking his head. “We’re in the middle of an intergalactic war.”

  “Actually, it’s more like a trans-dimensional war,” Drew replied. “I take it the gooey stuff from the nebula was the BioTex.”

  “An early version of it. We studied the sample and eventually learned how to synthesize a limited supply from alpha material we saved from our ship. If the Krellians get their hands on it, it would make them unstoppable. They’d be able to increase their numbers geometrically through endless cloning. They might even capture and replicate some of our own high-ranking officials, to infiltrate our leadership and uncover the location of our colonies. Multiple worlds and trillions of lives are at stake.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this before, Professor?” Drew asked.

  “We operate on a strict need-to-know basis for obvious reasons. Plus, we weren’t absolutely sure the Krellian Empire was behind these attacks until recently, when we started putting all the pieces together. Remember when I told you in your apartment that I’d seen the black powde
r once before, a long time ago?”

  Lucas nodded.

  “It was on Colony Three-Five-Nine after the attack, but we didn’t know why it was there or what had created it. We’d never seen the energy fields, either. When the domes left behind the same residue on campus, we began to suspect the Krellians were behind the attacks. It wasn’t until you uncovered the source of the energy spike that we understood how our enemy found us here.”

  “Basically, we phoned them and told them where you were,” Drew said.

  Kleezebee nodded. “When we later analyzed the pattern of the domes, we realized they were tracking us, appearing in places our replicas had been.”

  “Shit, that’s how you knew where the Green Valley energy dome would appear. You used BioTex to lure it there,” Lucas said.

  “Yes.”

  “Can we stop ‘em?” Lucas asked. “The bugs, I mean.”

  “Possibly, but it won’t be easy. They’re a warrior race of sadistic, malevolent creatures that can’t be reasoned with, bargained with, or dissuaded from their mission. Their singular goal is to scavenge entire worlds, consuming their resources, their technology, and their inhabitants.”

  “They’re cannibals?”

  “No, they don’t eat their own, but they do think of all other species as a food source.”

  Lucas remembered the pyramids of human remains left behind by the energy fields each time they disappeared. “If they eat other species, why are their domes leaving behind the pyramid of remains when they retract to their dimension?”

  “We believe it has to do with your Earth’s most virulent contagions, like NVL and Striallis. It’s likely the Krellians detected them in the bodies of those they returned. It’s probably the reason your planet has not been consumed en masse thus far. Your flavor has upset their palate, and your technology is of little interest to them. They are here mainly for my people and our technology.”

  “So your version of Earth was able to avoid these viruses?”

  “Yes, those two we did. But we had to deal with a few you avoided, like H1N1 and AIDS. Trust me, it’s been no picnic in our universe, either.”

  “What do the Krellians look like?” Drew asked.

  “They’re nine-foot-tall crustacean-like arthropods. They have a hard outer shell that acts like armor, but they’re bipedal and walk upright. The closest analogy on Earth would be a fusion of a giant beetle and a crawfish. They have a powerful set of front claws, long, suction tentacles, a tail with a serrated-edge stinger, and they drool uncontrollably. Their appearance is revolting to say the least. And the smell—”

  “Next, you’re going to tell us they have acid for blood, like in the movie Aliens,” Lucas said.

  Kleezebee laughed.

  Lucas wasn’t trying to be funny.

  “No, but they’re ruthless predators who’ll fight to the death to achieve their goals. They simply will not stop until every advanced civilization in every universe has been consumed, and its technology acquired.”

  “If you leave our planet, will they stop their attacks?” Drew asked.

  “That would be a logical assumption.”

  “Okay then, how would they know when you’re off-world?”

  “In order to track us, their energy fields must have some sort of remote sensors that can detect our specific bimolecular signatures. From what we’ve been able to gather, they aren’t very accurate, particularly during the daylight hours. We assume that’s why their domes employ a systematic farming pattern to cover an entire area once they’ve detected us.”

  “Most of the time?” Lucas asked.

  “It all has to do with the number of active domes in the area. When there are three or more, we believe they use a hidden signal to network their sensors together, to perform multi-point triangulation. We try not to remain out in the open and stationary for too long, especially at night. Our replicas are even more vulnerable since their BioTex signature is easier to detect among this Earth’s inhabitants.”

  “When my replica was sucked up on I-19, didn’t the bugs get their hands—I mean claws—on some of your BioTex?” Lucas said.

  “Correct, but they don’t have the activating enzyme. Despite their supremacy, they’re not a very technically astute species. They’re able to use third-party technology, but advanced physics and reverse engineering are not their forte.”

  “Then it should be relatively easy to outsmart them.”

  “One would think so, but they’re very cunning and can sense deception. We’ve tried to outmaneuver them numerous times over the course of our conflict, with limited success. It’s been quite humbling for the humans in my time-stream. The Krellians learn quickly, almost instinctually.”

  “They’re going to find the enzyme, aren’t they?” Drew asked.

  “It’s only a matter of time. So far, they’ve been thinking two-dimensionally, only consuming surface resources. But eventually, they’ll expand their efforts to underground locations. Fortunately, we do have some time to work with.”

  “Well maybe you do, but our planet is being consumed one square mile at a time!” Lucas snorted.

  “Do you have a plan?” Drew asked.

  “I’m hoping we can use the Quantum Foam Generator to provide the supplemental power we need to contact our home world. Once they know where we are, they should be able to open a rift to us in this universe so we can return.”

  “Why do you have to contact them first? Can’t you just open a rift from our side to get home? I have to assume you know the quantum signature of your home universe,” Lucas said.

  “We do, but they probably have safeguards in place to stop unscheduled travelers from entering their space. Then there’s the problem of time advancing differently in both universes. They’ll need to open the bridge from their side.”

  “Makes sense,” Drew replied, nodding.

  “Huh?” Lucas said, suspecting that Drew was full of shit.

  “Think of time as flowing like the mighty Mississippi River,” Drew told him. “Their universe is in the future, or upstream, and ours is downstream, in the past. When trying to swim across the strong current, it’s only possible to hit your mark if you start your swim from the upstream side. The same thing is true with a trans-dimensional bridge. They’ll have to open it from their side.”

  This was one of those times when Drew was three steps ahead of Lucas. He wasn’t sure how Drew knew the answer, but the explanation did help him understand the concept. He looked at his boss. “So what do we do next?”

  “You two get back to the silo and begin preparations. This time, be sure to follow my specs to the letter. I’ll stay here and get the generator running. When I’m ready, I’ll call you.”

  “Call us?” Lucas asked, worrying he didn’t have the strength for yet another trek up the stairs with Drew on his back.

  Kleezebee opened his equipment bag and, after sifting through its contents, pulled out a pair of Motorola handheld radios.

  “Use this to stay in contact,” Kleezebee said, handing one of the two-way transmitters to Lucas.

  “What’s the range?”

  “Fifty-two miles. More than adequate. Stay on channel forty-four,” Kleezebee said, digging into his bag again.

  “Will it work down here?”

  The professor pulled out two silver devices with a red toggle switch on the side. Each was the size of a cigarette pack with a stubby black antenna sticking out of the top.

  “Place these signal boosters in the stairwell. One at the top and one at the bottom. They’re battery-powered and will take care of the problem.”

  “Excellent,” Lucas replied with admiration for his mentor’s ability to foresee needs and plan accordingly.

  Drew unfolded his handwritten calculations and gave them to Kleezebee. “Here. You’ll need these, Professor.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  It took a while to carry Drew back up the stairs and get him to the silo, where they rode the underground facility’s elevator down to the 7th
floor. They found Bruno waiting for them with a steaming cup of coffee in his right hand. Lucas expected Bruno to be chowing down a few caramel-covered treats, not drinking a cup of Joe. If Kleezebee hadn’t told him about Bruno’s death in 2001, Lucas might’ve thought this man was the real Bruno, not just another replica. The fresh coffee stain on his shirt would’ve been a dead giveaway.

  “Welcome back, gentlemen,” Bruno said in his usual jovial voice.

  “Good to be back. How’s Mom doing?” Lucas asked, worrying everyone had forgotten about her. He envisioned her lying on the floor in the bathroom for hours, crying out in pain. He thought it might be a good idea to get her one of those emergency necklaces advertised on late-night TV, the kind with the push-button radio transmitter built in so she could call for help. Assuming of course, the planet survived and he wasn’t prosecuted for mass murder.

  “Great. She’s upstairs in her quarters. We just had lunch together.”

  “I need to go spend some time with her,” Lucas said to Drew. “After I help you and DL save the world, of course. I gotta do something to atone for my sins. On multiple fronts.”

  Drew nodded. “Me, too.”

  Lucas looked down the hallway in both directions. “Where’s the reactor?”

  “Just two doors down on the left. Follow me,” Bruno said.

  Lucas held the radio he was carrying up to his mouth, then pressed the switch on the side of it. “Dr. Kleezebee, can you hear me? This is Lucas.”

  The radio squawked. “Read you loud and clear.”

  “We’re here in the silo. Bruno’s taking us to the reactor.”

  “Excellent. I’ve entered the new equations for NASA’s reactor, and we should be ready to begin the power-up sequence within the hour. Call me when you’re ready.”

  “Ten-four,” Lucas said.

  “You’re supposed to say over when you finish a sentence,” Drew said.

  “I really don’t think DL cares,” Lucas said, clipping the radio to his belt. He wanted to say something else with a little heat in it, but chose not to with Bruno within earshot.

  Bruno held the door to the reactor room open; Lucas and Drew went through to the inside.

 

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